There is a couch
In a room.
In a house.
On a street.
In a city.
In a state.
In a country.
That in this moment,
as I straddle you,
is my whole world.
She lingered over her martini, an olive
floating gracefully in the gin,
vermouth and humor sitting dry on her tongue.
The summer evening slowly inched itself across the tablecloth
until the light from the candle at the center
hindered its crusade to bring on the dark.
I ran my hand over the flame, letting it lick the dent of my palm,
inching it further down until
the quick pain reminded me of that first pinprick of love
the night we met. Do you remember
the earthy smell of the apples slowly rotting under the leaves?
The world altering itself beneath our feet?
There was a sense of urgency back then, a need
for hastened fingertips and my lips to always be pressed to yours,
skin rubbed in raw emotion until it burned like kindling
in the night. Your eyes were golden
under the lanterns, your hands pale birds
swooping over your plate.
In that moment my skin burned for the ocean
of your curls across my hips,
the charm on your necklace to brush against my thigh,
the warmth of summer waves to pulse beneath my skin.
She let the glass fall with a flick of her wrist,
condensing the air to an acrid twitch
and rendering my vision to pinpoints as
I watch the reflection of her eyes careen to earth.
Will you reach your hand up to my cheek
and read the wounds you stashed inside my corneas?
Or will you stare at the echoes at our feet
until my hand reaches for yours
across this shattered display of moments?
There’s a certain appeal to the bruise colored haze at the bottom
of a six-pack. She sits
on the kitchen floor, knees bent
out at acute angles, shuddering shoulder
blades pressing against skin
until the fine human film splits
and she falls – splits down the center
like the bottom of the Colorado mountain valleys we hiked last spring.
The skin of her cheeks would flush in the brisk mornings and I, alone,
learned every shade of tension stretched through her shoulders
when she’d bend
over to wash her hair in the stream.
Like the willow tree bends: graceful
limbs reaching to touch a quivering reflection.
The skies have never been greyer.
I don’t heal from mental scars overnight.
Neither do you.
I overthink small problems and I wither when I make mistakes.
So do you.
It made me smile that we have our own inner demons.
It gave me the realization that I would not be alone.
When two broken hearts get together,
I often dream that they are matches made in heaven.
Because we understand where we’ve been
And why these circumstances made us the way we are.
But in every relationship, it is the furthest thing from paradise.
It won’t be the last time that we’d be walking on thin ice.
You are a sweetheart to me and I won’t forget the way you changed my life.
You’ve inspired me to meet icons whose wealth exceeds my wildest dreams.
You’ve helped me see that they’re human beings just like you and me.
You’ve given me pieces of you to keep me on my feet and explore uncharted territory in Wonderland.
You’ve compelled me to think that you wouldn’t ask for much as long as I said,
“I love you. My life wouldn’t be the same without you.” every night.
You constantly worry you lose me and that nothing in life goes right for you.
I keep trying to do my own thing while battling the sergeants that disagree with my decisions.
Don’t let our fickle position be added to my list of never-ending burdens.
Sometimes I stay the best of friends with people I was fond of before.
I’m never the “love them and leave them” type as long as I’m still on good terms with them
And remind myself that the past is in the past and no one is taking me anywhere.
Not that anyone could anyway as long as I make a living trying to tell nectarines and peaches apart.
Tonight when I talked about it with you, the way I opened up to you was like stepping in a land mine.
I don’t want to keep secrets from you so you wouldn’t fear I’d leave you to drown in a vale of tears.
But I’ll lock them up and throw away the key if I’m put on the spot like this.
Then I wouldn’t let you touch me the way you do now.
I’ve learned many hard lessons from falling in love and interpreting one’s intentions.
One taught me that it’s pointless to disguise odium as empathy.
One taught me that I can never choose what the love of my life gets offended by.
One taught me not to rely too heavily on my other half lest I lose my ability to solve problems.
One taught me not to sacrifice too much when making a commitment.
One taught me that there’s more to life than shotgun weddings and procreation.
One taught me to love who I am before I can give my light to others.
A lost boy who’s a year away from adulthood has given me his by sharing his own disappointments
Yet he still has the heart to resurrect the brotherly side that I had previously lost to a poisonous fable.
I know I want to love
And I want to be loved in return
But I am a free spirit and close friends mean the world to me.
I never see myself as a “give and take” kind of bloke
All because the little things in life are what matters more to me.
Who would want a lover like that?
I am sorry that you feel the way you do, but no matter what the future brings,
I’ll always love you and be indebted to your compassion.
I swear on the grave of my jewel and cousin, I wish you the best in life
Whether I spend mine with you or not.
The skies have never been greyer.
How can you leave
Stregnth to breath
fragile heart breaks
for heavens sake
Was it me?
That failed to see
Failing your needs
Would never succeed
I love you all ways
Upside rounding stays
But on this occasion
Lets have no evasion
Our bond is strong
Neither is wrong
But i will not be
if not all to thee.
I have a marriage where I have always been loyal, honest and respectful.
You don’t.
I have class.
You don’t.
I have dignity.
You don’t.
I have integrity.
You don’t.
I have beauty, both inside and out.
You don’t.
I have self respect and self worth.
You don’t.
I have strength.
You don’t.
I have loyalty.
You don’t.
I have good character.
You don’t.
I have respect for other humans, as much as i have for myself.
You don’t.
I have street smart and common sense.
You don’t.
I have parents/grandparents who are proud of my choices. The ones they know and the ones they don’t. I know this.
You don’t
One day I hope to have children and when I do, I will have children who have a good hearted, moral mother. One who leads by example and shows them the right paths in life. Always.
You don’t.
they say
when someone cries
you can feel it in your heart.
they’re lying
I feel it everywhere.
I live in shadows
when your face is too red
to turn on the light.
my core catches red
when you catch my eye.
my legs feel you stumbling.
this book is filled with words
you have forgotten writing
in the hours that belong to
liquid escape,
my fingers finding a dance floor on yours,
half-awake second chances.
maybe that’s why
I don’t make it easy to open.
I swear I don’t just feel it in my chest when you leave,
it’s like something in my bones
has been rebuilt
they remember your kiss as
not just a now
but a memory
a tomorrow,
I am tearing apart
skin that has turned to glass
I am crumbling.
lemons and oxygen
kickstart my brain,
swing it in circles
but I can’t let it out
through a skull already cracked.
they say
when the seasons change
when the ground shakes
you can feel it in your heart.
but isn’t a heart all of you?
It's been a while since I've seen you, been a while since I've heard from you.
Your face is the one thing I can still see, and your voice is the one thing I can still hear.
Mentally, I saw you walking, but you passed me, and didn't notice I was there.
I tried to call out to you, but you didn't hear me.
Once, I thought I loved you, everyone else seemed to think I did too.
But all I felt went away very quickly, like I knew it would.
When I met you, I was happy, we talked almost always, and it was great having someone to talk to.
You were there, when he wasn't.
I appreciate and love you for that.
I've tried to picture what it would be like if I was with you, what it would be like if I was yours instead of his.
Would I be happier? Would I experience what I'm not right now?
So many questions, and so many answers which I haven't found.
Everytime I am alone, I feel some sort of sadness, some sort of emptyness.
Not that it completely has to do with you or him, but I think more to do with the loneliness I've been living with.
Making myself believe things could be different every time I find someone new.
But, you know how it goes, and how its gone for me.
How to walk away from something seems easy, but sometimes, people struggle even when they know they have to let go.
Being with someone new is something I almost don't want to do again.
I don't want to tell anyone else stories of my past, and how I once was.
I don't want to do things and not keep it to myself.
I've always been a quiet and reserved girl, I've always been you could say, overly careful about who I allow to touch me.
Doing things with him, I grew comfortable with, and something I became okay with.
Doing things with you, I've questioned, and thought of, something I would've had to grow comfortable and okay with.
Could I ever do things with you, can I see myself doing things with you, and would I ever see and hear you again........but this time, for real?
I look at how other girls live their lives, and sometimes think of how they handle being physical.
How do they allow themselves to give their all to one guy, and then another after some time has passed?
is there never any regret? Is there never any fear and doubt?
Where does the trust comfort and idea of being okay with it come from?
If things go wrong, how are they able to allow themselves to do it again, and with someone else who isn't meant to be their someone?
And off the topic I wonder, how was someone like you, able to seemingly fall for me?
I am a damaged broken record you see.
What is there to possibly like about me, how can one like me, and why?
Even after trying to be with someone for 5 years, I still don't know why he chose me........but then there's you.
Why did you pick me? why havent you given up? Why do you still wish to have me?
What is there, aside from the reason to do with my body, to like about a woman like me?